The Things Only You Know: The Origin of ManHands
by miseradreamer
Summary: The story of how Rachel was given the nickname, Man-Hands. Side story to TTOYK, but can also be a one-shot if you haven't read the other story.


**A/N:** This is a side story to my other story The Things Only You Know (takes place long before TTOYK starts), but can also stand alone as a one-shot if you haven't read TTOYK and don't plan on it. The other story is Brittberry/Pieberry and this one is Pezberry. If you read TTOYK and you're wondering if anything from this story will come up later in it, the answer is yes.

Please R&R!

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><p>Rachel ran a hand through her damp brown locks as she miserably dragged her feet down the hall, heading towards the American History class that she was already fifteen minutes late for. It was only her fourth day of high school and she'd just finished cleaning off her third slushie facial. She was just thankful that she had decided to pack a change of clothes today. The excitement of being a freshman in high school had already worn off completely and all she was looking forward to was spending the weekend locked in her bedroom, where she wouldn't constantly be threatened by frozen syrup thrown in her face.<p>

She sighed as she found a sticky clump of hair glued together and tried to pull the individual strands apart as she slowed her turtle walking pace down to a snail.

Suddenly, a muffled sound from behind her broke the silence of the deserted hallways and forced Rachel to freeze mid step. She spun around to find the source of the odd sound, but she was surprised to find the hall completely empty. She held her breath and strained her ears, waiting for the sound to repeat, and after a full minute of silence she was about to chalk it up to her imagination and continue on her way, when she heard it again, this time a little louder. It was the distinct sound of a girl trying to stifle her sobs. She knew the sound well as she had been hearing it more and more in the past few days coming from herself.

Rachel's head whipped around again, spinning on her heels as she tried to figure out where the sound could possibly be coming from, but there was no one there.

"Where are you," Rachel whispered softly to herself.

There was another sob, followed by a sniffle and then a hiccuping sound, as if the girl was trying to get her breathing under control and was beginning to hyperventilate.

"Where are you," Rachel repeated the question, this time louder and not directed at herself, "I can hear you, but I can't find you."

The sobbing was immediately cut short and complete silence filled the halls once again. Rachel sighed, her eyes scanning the row of lockers in front of her for any movement that someone might be locked inside.

"I'm not going to hurt you," she assured her, carefully stepping beside each locker and listening for any little sound, "Or make fun of you. You sound like you could use a friend. Or at least someone to keep you company?"

There was another loud sniffling noise and Rachel instantly whirled around, able to pinpoint its origin to directly behind her, and found a door marked 'Staff Only' on the other side of the hall. She crept towards it softly, pressing her ear against it when she was close enough, and held her breath as she listened. She could hear the girl almost crystal clear now, crying softly and breathing heavily.

"My name is Rachel," she offered, resting her hand on the doorknob, but deciding against opening it. She didn't know who this girl was and didn't know if she might want to punch whoever disturbed her, "What's your name?"

She waited patiently for an answer, but other than her quiet whimpering and sniffles, the girl stayed quiet.

"If you would prefer that I leave, I will," Rachel continued, determined to get the girl to say something to her, "But it's hard for me to hear someone crying and not try to help them. I don't know what's causing you so much pain, but I promise I'm a really good listener and-"

Without warning, the door was thrown open and Rachel tumbled inside the small room and right up against the mystery girl. The girl let out sad chuckle as she held Rachel in her arms until Rachel was able to find her footing again, then quickly closed the door behind her.

"Sorry," Rachel mumbled with a blush, looking around the tiny closet that she now realized was a janitor's supply room. There was only a single bulb dull light, but it was enough for Rachel to make out the tanned, dark haired girl, who had returned to her seat on a shelf between rows of solvents. The girl's cheeks were soaked with tears and her eyes were red and swollen, as if she'd been in there for a long time.

The girl just shrugged with a forced smile, her arms folded tightly across her chest as she whispered, "I'm Santana."

"It's nice to meet you, Santana," Rachel smiled widely at her, then corrected herself, "Although it's unfortunate that it's under these circumstances."

Santana pressed her cheek to her shoulder as she made an attempt to wipe the fresh tears away, then sniffled again, but didn't speak.

"Do you want to talk about it," Rachel gently prodded, dropping her school bag onto the floor before clearing some of the solvents away from Santana's side and taking a seat next to her.

Santana chewed nervously at her lip as she stared down at the dirty tiled floor, then finally cleared her throat before answering, "I wanted to sign up for the Cheerios tryouts-"

"Cheerios," Rachel questioned, interrupting her.

"The cheerleading squad," Santana explained, this time using her palms to wipe at her cheeks, "But when I wrote my name down on the list, there were a group of them behind me laughing."

"A group of who," Rachel asked.

"Cheerios," Santana sniffled, "They were laughing and telling me to go back to Mexico and that they don't let losers on the team. I'm not even from Mexico!"

Santana was shaking as she recalled the story and Rachel could understand how she was feeling. She was having just as much trouble trying to fit in.

"Are you a freshman too," Rachel asked and Santana nodded, "I've been getting picked on a lot from the older students here too. I think there's just some unwritten rule that everyone has to bully the new freshman. Maybe it's like a right of passage or something. Are you any good?"

"At bullying," Santana asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion.

"No silly," Rachel giggled, giving her a playful shove with her shoulder, "You don't look like the type of person to ever talk mean about anyone else. I meant are you any good at cheerleading?"

"Oh," Santana laughed, "Yeah, I was head cheerleader in junior high and I just finished a very extensive cheer camp this summer. Cheerleading is like my passion. I know that sounds silly."

"No," Rachel smiled, shaking her head quickly, "My passion is singing and one day I'm going to be on Broadway, so I can relate."

"That's cool," Santana smiled back, then sighed as her eyes dropped back to the floor, "I don't understand how they could be so mean. I never even said anything to them and they're already judging me just because I'm Hispanic?"

"People can be very cruel," Rachel nodded, reaching over and taking Santana's hand in hers, interlacing their fingers and giving it a tight squeeze as she whispered, "Don't let them get to you. Go to those cheerleading tryouts with your head held high and make them take back all they said by proving them wrong. Show them how talented you are and show them that they can't hurt you because you're better than them."

Santana stared down at their linked hands with a smile, stroking her thumb over the back of Rachel's hand. Rachel's gaze joined hers on their hands, trying to understand the strange feeling that was building inside her by the way Santana was massaging her. Santana stretched her fingers out from between Rachel's and Rachel did the same so that their palms and fingers were pressed completely against one another. Santana lifted their hands off her lap, smirking as she bent the tips of her fingers over top of Rachel's.

"You're hands are so small," Santana whispered with amusement, her eyes never leaving their hands.

Rachel tore her eyes away from their hands to study Santana's face, trying to decipher just what, exactly she was expressing. Her eyes were dry, but still swollen, and her tears had left dried streaks down her tanned cheeks, but she didn't look sad anymore. She looked calm and possibly content. She hadn't noticed it before, because she had been too busy trying to cheer up the taller girl, but she was really quite beautiful. Her long black hair hung straight down, past her shoulders to the middle of her back and still managed to shine, despite the dull lighting. Her eyes were as black as her hair with incredibly thick and long eyelashes, that would make any girl jealous, and she had the perfect nose, small and cute and the kind of nose that Rachel always wished she had. What caught her attention the most, however, were the pouting, full, deep red lips, that would frequently catch between her teeth as she nipped at them. She was dressed in a simple pair of skinny jeans and a tight white top that showed off all of her amazing curves and athletic body and Rachel found herself wondering how on earth someone who was as beautiful as her could possibly get teased.

"You're so beautiful," Rachel found herself saying, without actually meaning to. She felt like she was in a trance as she stared at the girl beside her, who was still playing with her hand. Rachel had never been one of the popular girls. She had always been teased and labelled as the class loser no matter what grade she was in and this was the first time in her life that she had ever been this close to one of those flawless looking girls, without her face being pushed into the toilet. Santana may be getting bullied right now, but Rachel knew that as soon as the first couple weeks of school had gone by, and the freshmen hazing had lost its excitement, Santana would quickly be finding her place at the popular kids table in the lunch room. Girls that looked like her never stayed at the bottom.

Rachel's cheeks instantly reddened when she realized what she had said and Santana's eyes finally left their hands to stare back at her, wide with shock. Rachel tried to think of something to say, her mouth opening and closing a few times, but she couldn't think of anything so she just stared back at her in fear.

After what seemed like forever to Rachel, Santana's eyes finally softened as her lips curled into a gentle smile, and her own cheeks reddened to match Rachel's.

"Thanks," Santana mumbled, licking her lips and squeezing Rachel's hand, "I think you're beautiful too."

"You're just being nice," Rachel scoffed, her eyes dropping to their hands, back to their resting place in Santana's lap.

"No, really," Santana said, her blush spreading as she too began to avoid eye contact and admitted in a very soft whisper, "You have really pretty eyes."

Rachel swung her legs nervously, her heart thundering in her chest as she chewed on the inside of her cheek and muttered a bashful, "Thanks."

They sat in silence again, both staring at their hands as their fingers naturally interlaced and Santana inched her leg closer to Rachel's, until their thighs were pressed together.

"You know what I think," Rachel whispered, breaking the long silence.

"What," Santana whispered back, her thumb returning to its previous stroking rhythm on the back of Rachel's hand.

"I think those girls lashed out at you because they feel threatened," Rachel replied confidently, letting her calf brush against Santana's as she began to swing her legs again, "They can tell that you're going to be their competition and they're afraid."

"You think so," Santana asked, a hopeful half smile appearing on her lips as she glanced over at Rachel.

"I'm certain of it," Rachel nodded back, giving her a wide and positive toothy grin.

"Can I ask you something," Santana asked, her leg beginning to swing with Rachel's as if they were tied together at the ankles.

"Sure," Rachel said, gripping Santana's hand tighter and nervously waiting for her question.

"Why do you smell like grape," she asked seriously, then noticing the quick darkening of Rachel's features she added, "Is it like a perfume or your lip gloss or something? It smells really good and I was just-"

"One of those cheerleaders threw a slushie in my face," Rachel answered, bitterly, "It was grape."

Santana gasped in horror using her other hand to cover Rachel's and tightly sandwiching it between hers, "Are you serious? Why would they be so mean to you?"

Rachel shrugged, trying to pretend that it wasn't that big of a deal, "No one ever seems to like me. I guess I'm just always going to be a loser at school."

"I like you," Santana replied firmly, pushing her knee harder against Rachel's, "You're an amazing person, Rachel, I don't think I've ever met anyone as nice as you and you don't ever deserve to be treated like that."

Rachel smiled back at her, so happy that she had finally found a friend and still in such disbelief that someone who was as beautiful as the girl beside her would ever give her a second look.

"If I make it on that squad," Santana said, "I promise that I will make sure they never bother you again."

"I can't believe you're being so nice to me," Rachel blushed, shyly, tucking her long hair behind her ear with her free hand, "No one's ever nice to me."

"Things are going to be much different around here when I'm in charge," she promised, swinging her foot underneath Rachel's, tangling their legs until she had Rachel's foot trapped between hers, "All those girls that were ever mean to you are going to be begging for your forgiveness. No one messes with Santana Lopez or her friends and gets away with it."

"So we're friends," Rachel said, brightening with excitement.

"Duh," Santana laughed, "I don't really know too many people here yet, but I can already tell we're going to be like best friends forever."

Rachel gnawed on her lips, biting back her enthusiastic smile, as they stared into each others eyes. Finally, Rachel quickly leaned in and before either could really think about what was happening, she pressed her lips to the corner of the Latina's mouth, letting them linger for a long time before pulling back and returning her gaze to the floor in embarrassment.

She refused to look back up and see Santana's expression, she was too embarrassed by her impulsive action and was terrified that Santana was going to change her mind about being friends. After a couple awkwardly silent minutes past, Rachel suddenly felt soft lips against the corner of her own mouth and closed her eyes to the delightful sensation.

When the lips disappeared, she opened her eyes and chanced a nervous glance over at Santana, who was smiling at her.

"I'm not gay," Santana whispered shyly after awhile.

"Me either," Rachel protested, shaking her head.

"It just felt right," Santana explained, still gripping Rachel's hand in hers with their legs still tangled together.

"It did," Rachel agreed, then shifted her eyes for a moment before asking, "Would you be upset if you were gay?"

Santana thought about it for a moment, tracing circles over the back of Rachel's hand with her fingertip before shrugging, "No, I don't think it would matter. Would you?"

"I have two gay dads," Rachel answered, proudly, "I've witnessed first hand that it doesn't matter who you fall in love with, as long as you're happy together."

"Maybe I could be gay," Santana said softly, staring down at the back of her hand, "I think about boys, but sometimes I think about girls too."

"I'm only thirteen and I think your teens is when you start to figure out who you are so I have a lot of time to figure that out," Rachel shrugged, then added when she noticed Santana's confusion to her age, "My birthday isn't until the middle of December, so I'm always the youngest in all my grades."

"That's funny," Santana chuckled lightly.

"What is," Rachel asked, arching an eyebrow.

"My birthday is January 5th and I'll be fifteen," Santana explained, "So just when you've finally made it to fourteen I'll be fifteen. We're almost a full year apart and yet we're still in the same grade."

"You know," Rachel said softly, licking her lips, "You can kiss me if you want to. I mean on the lips. If you want to. It wouldn't mean that we're gay. We could just see if we liked it."

"Have you ever kissed anyone before," Santana asked, her eyes focused entirely on Rachel's lips.

"Sure," Rachel answered quickly, "There have been many boys that-"

Rachel stopped speaking when Santana raised a questioning eyebrow then shook her head, "No, never. Have you?"

"Once, with a boy," Santana nodded, wrinkling her nose, "It was kind of gross and after I had spit like all over my face."

"Maybe you didn't do it right," Rachel suggested, "When I see it in the movies it doesn't look like it would feel gross at all. Or maybe you just have to do it with the right person?"

"Maybe," Santana agreed, then asked nervously, "Are you sure this is how you want your first kiss?"

Rachel glanced around at the dirty janitors closet and said, "Well, I didn't really imagine it being around so much cleaning supplies-"

"No," Santana interrupted, "I mean, are you sure you want it to be with me?"

"Oh," Rachel said, biting down on her lip, "I like you and you're really nice to me and you're really pretty."

"If you want to," Santana whispered, letting go of Rachel's hand and turning her body so she was facing Rachel.

Rachel mimicked her movements, turning her body towards Santana and replied, shyly, "I want to."

Santana laid her hands on Rachel's shoulders for a moment, but then moved them to a more comfortable spot, lightly placing them on either side of Rachel's waist. Rachel nervously put hers on the tops of Santana's shoulders and closed her eyes, waiting for Santana to make the first move.

They sat there like that for a painfully long time and just when Rachel had thought that she had changed her mind, she suddenly felt a hot breath ghost over her lips and then it was happening. Santana's lips were timid, gently pressing to hers with only the slightest bit of pressure, and it took a long time before they both gained the courage to move. Santana's lips parted slightly, just enough for Rachel's top lip to slide in between them, and then they locked back together while Rachel's closed against her bottom lip.

Rachel's hands moved from her shoulders as she wrapped her arms around Santana's neck, and Santana's wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling their bodies together. After a while, Santana's lips slid down to capture Rachel's lower lip, testing out the difference in sensations, then lightly sucked it before breaking the kiss and pulling back.

Rachel kept her eyes closed for a moment after the kiss had ended, her lips still tingling from her first kiss, and then she smiled as she opened her eyes.

"That didn't feel gross at all," Rachel whispered, unable to subdue the huge grin that spread.

Santana pressed her lips together before swiping her tongue over them.

"Sweet," she agreed softly, still staring down at Rachel's lips, "Who knew lady-kisses would be the best kind."

Suddenly a loud bell erupted from the hallway, startling both of them and causing them to break away from each other instantly.

"I have to get to class," Rachel sighed, running a finger absently over her lips, "But I would really like it if we could hang out again."

"Me too," Santana nodded, getting to her feet and helping Rachel up.

"What about after school," Rachel suggested, taking her school bag that Santana had picked up off the floor for her.

"Cheerleading tryouts are after school," Santana said, "But you could wait by the gym and we could hang out after?"

"Okay," Rachel said, excitedly, bouncing on her toes, "I can't wait."

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><p>The cheerleading tryouts were the strangest Santana ever had to endure, spending the entire time following orders that a tall, masculine woman, who introduced herself first as 'God' and then as Coach Sylvester, barked one after another. She had no problems keeping up since she'd had ample previous experience in cheerleading, but many of the other girls broke down and ended up running crying from the gym. It was a gruelling hour and a half experience which began with about thirty girls trying out, but by the end the number had dwindled to about fifteen. She noticed that one of the girls she had met the other day, not quite the brightest girl but definitely a very gifted dancer, Brittany, had also made it to the end and she was relieved to see she had lasted.<p>

They all collapsed onto the floor of the gym when Coach Sylvester instructed them to sit there and not move while she made a decision. The coach left with the group of Cheerios who were already on the team, previous years on the squad allowed them to bi-pass tryouts, and all the girls tried to catch their breath while waiting for her to return.

"You're really good," a blond girl said to Santana as they both began stretching out their tired muscles.

"Thanks," Santana nodded, breathlessly, "You too."

"I'm Quinn," she said, holding out her hand towards her and Santana gave it a tired shake.

"Santana," she replied.

"I'm Brittany," Brittany said from the other side of her, and the two blonds reached across her to shake each other's hands.

"I don't know about the rest of them," Quinn said, nodding towards the other girls, "But the coach would have to be crazy not to put the three of us on her team."

"I think she is crazy," Santana chuckled, uneasily.

"Doesn't matter," Quinn said, wiping the sweat from her forehead with her arm, "The squad has won nationals every year that she's been coaching. She's brutal, but she gets results."

Five minutes later and Coach Sylvester was back in the gym with her train of Cheerios following in behind her.

"If I call your name you're on the team," she barked, "If I don't, there isn't always next year, you suck and I don't want you on my team. Quinn Fabray, Santana Lopez and Brittany Pierce congratulations you made it. Everyone else get lost and I don't ever want to see you in my gym again."

The coach immediately left the gym and Santana performed a short victory dance when she heard her name called, until movement by the entrance to the gym caught her attention. Rachel was standing in the doorway and had obviously heard the news that she'd made it, because she was jumping up and down with a huge smile on her face. Santana smiled back at her, resisting the urge to do something geeky like give her a thumbs up and instead folded her arms across her chest in case they decided to act without her permission.

"What's up with the reject," a blond Cheerio, who Santana now knew was the head Cheerio, asked with a cruel tone.

"Who even gave her permission to exist," another one snapped.

Santana frowned, listening to them berate the girl who had been so kind to her earlier. Rachel obviously couldn't hear them because she was still smiling brightly at her and then gave her a small wave.

"That your girlfriend, Lopez," the blond growled, looking at Santana with disgust, "You guys lesbos, because we don't let carpet munchers on our squad."

Santana stared back at Rachel, trying to swallow the lump in her throat as her heart thundered in her chest. She looked at those beautiful brown eyes that she had just complimented earlier that day and the large brown ringlets that bounced around her shoulders as she jumped. Those lips, the lips that she could still recall the taste of, still remember how they felt on hers, the same lips that she had been thinking about all day and couldn't wait for school to end just so she could feel them again.

She thought about the promises she made to her, about how she would never be mean to her, how she would make them all pay for hurting her, and she felt sick. Her stomach turned and her eyes began to sting, because she already knew what she was going to do. She had to make a decision that would affect the rest of her high school years, maybe even the rest of her life, and she had already made it.

"No," Santana croaked, trying to clear her throat, "That's so gross. That midget has been following me around all day. She even tried to hold my hand. Felt like these huge man hands or something."

Rachel was still smiling at her as her heart sunk even lower.

"Man-hands, I like that," the blond said then turned towards Rachel and yelled, "Hey Man-Hands, come here!"

Rachel's smile fell and she looked startled, before she slowly entered the gym, nervously looking from one cheerleader to the next.

"Oh perfect," the blond said, grabbing a slushy out of another Cheerio's hand and shoving it towards Santana.

"What are you doing," Santana asked, trying to keep her fears under control.

"You," the blond said pointedly, "Are going to show Man-Hands how you really feel about her."

"W-What," Santana stuttered, staring down at the blue drink in horror.

"Throw the drink at her, Lopez," the girl demanded, "Or are you really a lesbo?"

Santana glanced over at Rachel, who was quickly closing the distance between them, then hesitantly took the drink into her hands.

"I'm not a lesbo," Santana said to her through gritted teeth, then turned towards Rachel, who was now staring up at her wide eyed and so innocent.

Rachel looked from one girl to the next before stopping on Santana, her fingers fidgeting as she said shyly, "Congratulations on making the team, Santana. I knew you could do it."

Santana was holding back tears as she forced out the harsh words, "Of course I made it, Dwarf. Now I want you to take your disgusting man-hands and get lost."

"What," Rachel asked, with so much hurt in that single word that Santana really did think she was going to throw up.

"Stop following me around like a sad little puppy," Santana spat the words, then without a second thought, she hurled the slushie right into Rachel's face and watched as it covered her completely.

For a moment everyone was silent and Rachel just stared back in complete shock. Then Santana could see the tears, rolling down her cheeks and mixing with the slushie, before she spun around and ran out of the gym with a sob so painful, Santana had to clutch at the pain in her stomach.

"I underestimated you, Lopez," the blond said with a satisfied smirk, "You are one of us."

Santana watched as all the Cheerios filed out of the gym, laughing and talking amongst themselves, and it took a few minutes for her to realize that Brittany was still standing beside her and staring at her.

"What," Santana demanded, refusing to let herself break.

"I thought you were a nice person," Brittany said, sadly before turning and following the other Cheerios, "Guess I was wrong."

Santana collapsed onto the floor of the gym after everyone had left, crying louder than she ever had in her life. She hated herself and she hated herself for becoming the exact person she despised.

"No," she said firmly, clenching her teeth and balling her fists. So what if she hurt one stupid little girl? If she wanted to be a Cheerio and one of the popular girls at this school, she couldn't let anything break her. She couldn't cry. She couldn't care. She had to be hard and strong and not let anybody or anything get to her. She was going to rule the school and no one was ever going to get in her way.

No matter how soft her lips were.


End file.
